


Strange Customs

by Enochia



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Gen, Gender Roles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enochia/pseuds/Enochia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Carrot's a dwarf. And, as a dwarf, she doesn't see why being a woman is any kind of problem."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Customs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/gifts).



> As requested, fem!Carrot introspective in second person.

It’s not that you haven’t always known you are different. You knew it from the moment you were able to perceive that everyone had a beard except you. No one ever said anything about it, but you still _knew_. Then, you developed dozens of years before other dwarfs your age. You became so tall, you had to stoop and sometimes even crawl. Your body became very lumpy on some parts and very thin in the middle. You were sweet on a few boys, but their parents didn’t approve; you knew that they feared they might get beardless grandchildren. Still, a dwarf is nothing if not persistent and so you still hoped that Beor Dorinsson might sweep you off your feet someday. Well, more like sweep your feet. You were a couple of feet taller than him and all.

But even though you always knew you were different, you didn’t expect to be told one day that you’re not a dwarf.

Nevertheless, you were always treated as one until the last moment before your departure, even when you found out and no one had to pretend anymore. You were a daughter of the dwarf, and that still made you a dwarf, even if you were born a human.

But then you entered Ankh-Morpork and things changed.

Mrs Palm was very understanding when you explained politely why you don’t like being reminded of your gender. She offered to give you The Important Talk but thankfully, your Ma did it already before you left. But you appreciate the thought, so you can’t bring yourself to say “no” when she insists on pasting your face with odd-smelling creams. You heard about how Miss Dorritt two doors down had two dozens of extra eyes popping up on her chin after trying out some Klatchian All Natural Treatment. You dare to hope Mrs Palm’s creams might help you grow a beard at last.

You wish you knew what Mrs Palm is punishing you for by pulling out your eyebrows with some strange mini-prongs. But you are too ashamed to ask and admit you don’t have any idea what you are guilty of. The fact that you are a member of City Watch makes it even worse. How can you find the criminals guilty if you are not aware of your own crimes? So you suffer in shame until you are able to find out. You’ve been making good progress with the book and hopefully the answer will appear before you get to the last page. You are grateful to Mrs Palm because she at least lets you know that you did something wrong and inflicts the due punishment rather than leave you in the ignorance of your wrongdoings.

Mrs Palm also says you can have job at her place if you ever get bored of Watch, so it’s all right. The girls are so nice, too. Their friends are not always that nice. They look at you like old Gimlet does at a big fat rat seasoned with ketchup. They also call you strange things sometimes. Some of them seem to be interested in buying something from you, but you were never able to guess what, and they get offended when you guess wrong. It’s just as well; you own only things necessary for performing your Duty and upholding the Law as the member of the City Watch and a few farewell gifts you brought from home, and you wouldn’t part from them for anything.

You wish people at Watch were half as nice as Mrs Palm's girls. When you first came in, they stared at you. Then they asked if your name was really Ironfounders _son_. Then they stared some more. Then they called the captain.

Thankfully, the captain was a man of good upbringing, and once you explained that you were a dwarf, he didn’t go into impolite matters. He even took his men aside to explain that it’s rude to talk about a dwarf like _that_.

And then he said to you that it’s all fine, and that there were plans for introducing diversity into City Watch, and you fulfill two criteria, even, so your recruitment is a Good Thing.

You are very sorry when the captain gets cross with you after you arrest that boss of thieves. You still aren’t sure why he is angry. But he said that knocking the thief boss accidentally unconscious after he pinched your hindquarters was justified self-defense, so you suppose you haven’t messed up too badly.

Still, all these things are nothing compared to the shocking revelation about how your kindred acts when away from home. Truth be told, you hadn’t expected much from humans to begin with; but you expected much, much more from dwarfs. You’ve seen many a mother silently grieving; many a father proudly talking about his son who is now earning money in the big city in public, but wiping a stray tear or two when left alone. You stood there, looking at the appalling sight of their brawl, and wondered if the city will make you act like that too. You will try your best to make it certain it doesn’t. In the meantime, you scold the dwarfs and they listen - of course they listen. They are dwarfs. Dwarfs are nothing if not sensible. Maybe you can all fight the lure of the big city’s vices together. 

You thought that would be the most shocking thing you could see in the city. Then you met the librarian. And then things went downhill from there. But, at least, it was a productive night.

And even with all the queer customs and all the rude people pointing out your gender like it’s their business or something, things are going well. After captain gave them the talk and that mass arrest you did at Mended Drum, other members of the Watch seem to have accepted you as One Of Us. So you polish your helmet and go around at night shouting “all is well” - provided, of course, that All Is Well , if not - you Fulfill The Duty - and still wait for Corporal Nobbs to show you those ropes. You write your mother every week, like you promised, and help Mrs Palm with small repairs and heavy lifting. 

And maybe you could ask that librarian if he has a book about growing beards.


End file.
